Prowl
by Blackrose715378
Summary: Oh, Akili. What have we done.
1. She's a lady

"Prowl"

"Prowl"

Psycho looked at the clock in the lobby of the DREAD base for what seemed like the millionth time in ten minutes. Would it ever be 6:30? Most people finished their work days at 5:30, sometimes earlier on Fridays. People with kind, caring bosses who also wanted to get home to their families. But no. John Dread claimed that since DREAD was an evil organization hell-bent on controlling the world, they all had to work twice as hard to keep an edge on all the meddlesome do-gooders in the work. Like N-Tek. Gr.

However, Psycho's mood was immediately absolved when the clock finally struck 6:30. He strode happily out the door whistling "I Feel Like A Woman". He even held the door for an anonymous minion…before tripping and kicking said minion in the head, never interrupting the whistling. Psycho happily walked towards the parking garage, leaving the very confused and somewhat concussed minion lying on the sidewalk.

Dread watched suspiciously over a security monitor. He did not like it when his associates were too happy. When the enforcers of all that is evil are too happy, things happen. Kittens are rescued from trees, and orphans are hugged. Dread shuddered.

Psycho must have realized that he was being watched at that moment because he turned and waved to the camera, still whistling. Dread grimaced and turned off the camera. Why was Psycho so happy on Fridays? Of course everyone was happy to escape the daily grind of capturing and torturing N-Tek subjects, but was it really that bad at his base? He sniffed, insulted.

However, work and John Dread were far from the cyborg's mind sometime later, after he had driven home and waltzed about his bedroom trying on different outfits, finally settling on a pair of tight black slacks and a funky-looking pink shirt with tiny quails printed on it. He gave himself a final once over before heading out the door. He had been alone in his bed for too long lately. He was going on the prowl tonight.

Six nights a week he was Psycho, head minion at DREAD. However, tonight was different. Tonight, he was a she. And she was a lady.


	2. The meeting

A/N: For Akili XP…for the record I've never watched Sex and the City :-p Aaaand now for the most uncanon completely character obliterating fic I have ever writtern…figured I'd fess up before anyone else yelled at me :-p

Psycho went carefully down the stairs, making sure he did not trip. He was still getting used to his new pair of stilettos- magenta with purple sequins in random places. He had found them for thirty cents at a garage sale. What a bargain.

Just when he had gotten all the way down the stairs, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and, aghast, saw that the shade of orange lipstick he had chosen did not at all complement the black shoulder-length wig he was wearing. He stood torn at the bottom of the stairs. It had taken him so long to get all the way down, and he didn't want to miss happy hour…but he just had to change his makeup color scheme. It just wasn't right. He wanted to look absolutely fabulous tonight.

Finally, he kicked off the shoes and ran back upstairs to absolve the lipstick dilemma. Who said he had to navigate the stairs in his stilettos? Certainly not he…she. He corrected himself mentally. If he was to play the part convincingly, he had to be sure himself that he was exactly what he looked like in the mirror. A fun-loving woman looking forward to a night on the town. Sex and the City had taught him that in order to snag a man, one must be confident.

Now definitely ready, he opened the door connecting the kitchen to the garage, and sighed as he looked at his favorite possession. To work and back, he had to drive his beat-up Chevrolet in order to maintain appearances. However, when he was a she, she drove a bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle.

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After some time, she rolled up to her destination. It was a brand new club, one at which she would not be known for what she was under the clothes… there had been issues at other locations. No matter how free and accepting each group of partiers seemed, no matter how much they genuinely seemed to like her, no matter how convinced she was that the man she drove home that night would be different than all the others, she was always disappointed. The minute she revealed herself for what she actually was…a male…cyborg, her target suddenly remembered an urgent appointment at best, or freaked out and started yelling insults at worst. Of course, the next week everyone in the club would know who and what she was, and that would be the end of that.

She decided that this place would be different. It was new, only three weeks old, and as such, it was the perfect place for her to make her new start as well. She would take things more slowly this time. Make sure she actually found someone who loved her for who she was, and not let the overwhelming lust cloud her judgment. It had been so long since she had been satisfied. Sometimes the hormones took the front seat when she should be using her mind instead…

She got out of the car carefully, letting enough of her leg show so that the valet attendant came straight over to her vehicle and delightfully accepted her keys. Concentrating on her incredibly long legs, it took him a while to actually look up and meet her eyes. Upon surveying her face, he blanched, taken aback. There was something strange about her, but the look she gave him was so incredibly smoldering that he asked no questions and just did his job.

Grinning, she walked up to the bouncer at the door, batted her eyes, and expected to walk right past him. There had never been security at any of the other places she had frequented, but she had seen other girls pull off this trick all the time. You just had to look flirty and…

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

She kept walking- he must be talking to someone else. Some drunk, or hobo perhaps. No one could have ever applied that insulting tone of voice to her…

"Hey! You in the shoes!"

She slowly spun around, shocked, to answer the bouncer. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, you can help me by finding another place. Preferably somewhere dark."

She stood there, staring disbelieving at him. How could this be? She was beautiful. "What do you…" she looked at him, searching for some glint in his eyes that would tell her that he was just joking with her- that he really found her beautiful and just wanted to keep her out here to talk to him for a few minutes.

"You heard me. Get out of here. There are some tranny bars down the block. Maybe you'll find someone drunk enough there."

She stood shocked for a few more seconds, then stiffly put one magenta-clad foot in front of the other, starting slowly away. After two steps, she opened her mouth and started to turn around, but was met with the bouncer glaring back at her, arms folded over his chest.

With a sob, the terrible insult finally sinking in, she sat down on the curb and covered her face in her hands. No one would ever love her. All she wanted was one understanding soul, one person who would accept and cherish her, and share her days with. She had convinced herself during the past week that all the looming thoughts of dying alone were unfounded. She had promised herself to find someone this weekend- anyone who would give her a chance. But this was it. Where could she go from here? Could she even fool herself anymore?

She had just decided to sit there all night. All night, or until the tears stopped. She wasn't sure which would come first. She was betting on sunrise. However, she was only there for a few seconds when she heard the light sound of someone sitting themselves down on the curb next to her and gently put an arm around her.

She wanted to look up, but was well aware that her makeup was ruined, and if no one loved her when she was pretty and perfectly put together, any one person would bolt at the sight of her at her worst. After a while, the thought occurred to her that it wasn't anyone interested in her anyway. It was most likely the owner of the club, making sure she stayed put until the cops came, or at very least making sure she didn't try to get into the club again.

She stiffened against the person she was now positive was just trying to make sure she didn't get away. "You don't have to, you know."

"I know," a voice answered back softly.

"Well then why are you still here," she shot back between her choking sobs.

"Because I want to be. I think you're beautiful, and it's an honor to be by your side."

She looked up- she couldn't help it. She knew her makeup must have been a horrible mess, and she would only scare away this new-found good Samaritan, but she had to see his face. He was unfamiliar, but appealing, and looked sincere in his statement and in his concern for her. His expression didn't change one bit as he took in her face, smeared with cheap make-up, wig askew.

She saw nothing but warmth in his brown eyes, and her heart caught in her throat as her hope came flooding back to her.

"I was going to hang out here, but after seeing how that guy treated you, I want nothing to do with the place. And I'm suddenly hungry…will you come to dinner with me?"

The makeup-smeared face in front of him brightened, and it was as if all the clouds in the world had lifted in those eyes. "Re-really?" she stammered.

"Really. Just do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Can you get rid of all those decorations so I can enjoy seeing the real you?"

She sighed. Here it was. The reveal, and subsequent rejection as another possible suitor came to see what she truly looked like. However, he had given her hope. She would do this for him. Even when he left upon seeing her, she would still appreciate the warmth he had given her. Turning away from him, she slowly removed the wig, and a few quick dabs with a tissue from her purse removed what was left of the ruined leaking makeup. She hesitated briefly, but then turned back to him, showing her true self.

"Much better," he smiled contentedly, before getting up from the curb and offering her his hand. "Shall we?"

As happy as she had ever been in her entire life, nothing had ever come close to reaching this moment. Grasping his hand, she pulled herself up, smiling beatifically. Still holding onto each other's hands, the two walked slowly back towards where the valet attendant was standing.

He turned to her. "Do you want to drive together, or follow me?"

She blushed. "Driving together would be nice."

He grinned and gave the man in the vest his ticket. The two stood smiling at each other as they waited, all the while the bouncer at the door looking incredulously at the pair. Finally, a red sports convertible pulled up, and the attendant jumped out and handed the Samaritan his keys. Thanking the man, he walked around the side of the car to open the door for her before getting in the driver's side.

"Where to?" he asked.

"Wherever you want," she breathed back.

He smiled. "I know the perfect place," he assured her as he put the car in gear. "By the way, I don't believe I've introduced myself." He stepped on the gas.

"The name's Josh McGrath."


End file.
